


don't have your biscuits

by Dresupi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Humor, Meet-Cute, Mistaken Identity, Pre-Relationship, Texting, Wrong number
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 16:39:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17728916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: Darcy’s bored, or she probably wouldn’t have even responded to the Cute Rando who wrong-number texted her.But as luck would have it, she’s not just bored, she’ssuperbored.





	don't have your biscuits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thestanceyg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestanceyg/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [thestanceyg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestanceyg/pseuds/thestanceyg) in the [Conversation_Heart_Prompts_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Conversation_Heart_Prompts_2019) collection. 



> _A/n: Extra special thanks to thestanceyg for unwittingly giving me formatting advice for her own gift fic._ 😂 
> 
> **Prompt:**
> 
> Anything you want!
> 
> **_Conversation Heart Prompts 2019_ **

Darcy’s phone dinged in her pocket, a single sound to break up the monotony of Jane’s slipshod typing skills. Well… that was actually not true. Jane had glorious typing skills, but she would lapse into hunting and pecking the more exhausted she became. Darcy was probably going to have to start herding her towards the door soon.

But that wouldn’t be for at least an hour yet, and in the meantime, Darcy had this out-of-the-blue text to deal with. She was fairly certain it was a wrong number, given that the small number of people who actually texted her were in the same room with her.

All except for Clint, that is.

So it maybe  _ was _ Clint, asking her what kind of coffee she wanted.

She was surprised when the screen lit up with a number she didn’t recognize. Of course, she didn’t recognize many numbers over here across the pond. They were formatted differently and since she mostly communicated via email, she didn’t encounter many actual phone numbers.

Her own phone, which was SHIELD issue, had one of those numbers. Long, strange to her, and necessary to copy/paste when she had to give it to people. She hated phone calls anyway. She was really more of a social media person.

Darcy wasn’t even sure why she had the phone other than for Agent Coulson to keep tabs on her, and he could technically do that via Twitter if he really wanted to.

So when she saw the unknown number on the screen, her mind started racing.  Who was it? Another agent? Coulson using a burner cell?

It was only after about fifty or so of these useless thoughts that it dawned on her to read the actual message. Doi. It might have a clue.

Geez, she wished it  _ was _ Clint. She  _ really _ needed that coffee.

_ “Don’t have your biscuits.” _

Frowning, she reread the message again, trying to figure out if it was some kind of code that she would recognize if she was any more caffeinated.

Even if she had a double espresso iced mocha frap in her hand, she still didn’t think she’d know what the hell this text meant.  Which of course, pointed to about a ninety percent chance of it being a wrong number.

_ “I’m sorry?”  _ She typed back, waiting for an answer that would either clarify the text or confirm her suspicion.

The next four messages came in rapid succession.

_ “They’re out of them.” _

_ “At the store.” _

_ “They’re ordering more, but they’re out now.” _

_ “Oh Jesus, this isn’t Sherlock, is it?” _

The sudden realization that played out in her text inbox was nothing short of funny, and she snickered as she swiped a quick response. “ _ ROFL nope. Not Jesus either, but no need to worry. I don’t think the biscuit thing was your fault.” _

She waited for the unknown sender to reply, but they never did. Must have been too embarrassed or something.

It was a pity. She was bored, and the mysterious sender seemed interesting.

She saved the number in her contacts. The fifth in a very short list on her new-to-her phone. “Cute Rando.”

She wasn’t sure what Cute Rando’s real name was, but this seemed gender nonspecific and adorable enough that no one should care.

* * *

 

Her phone didn’t chime again until she was safely in her flat, watching Netflix in bed. Her takeout containers were stacked on the bedside table for safe disposal whenever she decided to get up.

The sound surprised her, but not as much as the name on the screen did. Cute Rando had texted her back.

_ “I wanted to apologise and explain about my former message… your number is four digits away from my roommate’s, and I was trying to recall it from memory instead of using my contacts.” _

The sincerity made her smile as she tapped out a quick response.

_ “It’s all good. Don’t worry about it. I was really invested in the whole ‘biscuits’ dilemma. Did you ever find them?” _

But no sooner had she pressed send than did another message come through from Cute Rando.

_ “I’m John, by the way.” _

He must have sent it before she’d finished typing her response because another came through seconds later.

_ “Oh, the biscuits? No. Never did.” _

Cute Rando’s name was John. Interesting.

_ “That’s cool.” _

Oh shit, she’d done it too. Double texted before getting a reply to the first message.

_ “Your name, not the not-finding-biscuits thing.” _

_ “I’m Darcy.” _

* * *

She didn’t get a response after she told him her name. Which was enough to worry anyone whose entire relationship with another individual stemmed from a wrong number text.

He heard her name and what? Noped out?

She  _ could _ text him again. A double text after a long time. But how lame was that? It was bad enough that she’d done it while he was responding. But now? After this long?  And technically, she’d sent the last three messages. So this would end up being a quadruple text.

Besides, she knew practically nothing about him. And there was a very real chance that it was just something to screw around between shifts at work or something.

And like hell Darcy Lewis would ever quadruple text someone who  _ ghosted _ her.

When her phone buzzed two days later, she nearly threw it across the lab and upset one of Erik’s machines.

_ “Darcy’s pretty, is that a family name?” _

Her jaw dropped down nearly to her chest. It had been two days. Forty-eight hours. She’d all but written off John the Cute Rando.

_ “Wow, you wait two days to text me back and that’s what you start with?” _ She swiped the words quickly, anxious to hear his bullshit excuse for not replying before now.

_ “My apologies. Work things.” _

Darcy started to scoff, but then she stopped and took one look around the lab. Jane was snoring into a cup of cold coffee and Erik was muttering to himself over a monitor. She had no idea what the weather was like outside, and she’d slept on that lumpy sofa in the break room more times than she could count. 

_ “I know all about work things, believe me.  And no, it’s not a family name. My mother was just an Austen scholar.” _

His response was fairly quick. 

_ “That sounds fascinating. I’m entirely out of work things at the moment, perhaps you’d fancy a longer conversation? Perhaps one on purpose? Definitely in public.” _

Her eyebrows raised significantly. Was John the Cute Rando asking her out? Or was she reading too much into it?

_ “Wow, kind of forward, aren’t you?”   _ Darcy added an emoji at the end to play up the whimsy and sarcasm, hoping this guy read sarcasm correctly. 

It took him a few minutes to respond, but when he did, it was predictable.

_ “No, actually… I’m never like this.” _

Haha! Yeah, right, Slick.

It was so predictable that the only thing Darcy didn’t expect was her desire to still go meet this guy.

_ “Yeah right. Pull the other one, John.” _

His next few responses came through in rapid succession and had Darcy second-guessing her primary judgment.

_ “Coffee? Lunch? Name the place and I’ll be there to pull it.” _

_ “That came out terribly wrong…” _

_ “Never mind, I’ll see myself out.” _

She had to laugh.  What an awkward little bunny. Never mind that he’d triple-texted. Again.

Darcy sent one of her favorite emojis to keep him from worrying too much. The crying-laughing face described her feelings exactly, and it would buy her a little time to figure out what she wanted to say.

A nicer person would assure him that it was fine, that she hadn’t taken it that way.

Except Darcy wasn’t really a nicer person and she’d totally taken it that way.

_ “Smooth, dude. Mega smooth.” _

Ribbing him a little more couldn’t hurt. And anyway, if he took it badly, she’d know what kind of a person he was, anyway.

_ “Yeah right. I feel like I owe you an apology for that…” _

“Oh, good response, John the Cute Rando…” She chuckled under her breath.

Jane’s head popped up to try and focus on her. “What?” she croaked.

“Jane. Go home and get some sleep,” Darcy commanded. “I have a coffee date.”

She heard Jane’s head plop down on the countertop, which meant Darcy would have to pour her into a cab before she left. But that was fine. She needed a little time to freshen up anyway.

_ “And you’d be right. How about over coffee?” _

It took him longer than before to respond, so long that Darcy was almost worried she’d lost him to ‘work things’ again.

_ “What, really?” _

She was really going to like this goober, she could tell.

**Author's Note:**

> xoxo! <3


End file.
